


Dreams

by AliciaSinCiudad



Series: Tumblr-prompt stand-alones [19]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cassian Andor Appreciation Week 2018, Dreams and Nightmares, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliciaSinCiudad/pseuds/AliciaSinCiudad
Summary: It wasn’t unusual for Bodhi to wake sobbing from a nightmare. Cassian could usually tell which one it was before Bodhi woke.For Cassian Appreciation Week, July 2018.Day One: Dream





	Dreams

It wasn’t unusual for Bodhi to wake sobbing from a nightmare. Cassian could usually tell which one it was before Bodhi woke.

The insistent _I defected. I defected!_ meant he was in Saw’s caves. If he started whimpering, it meant Saw had already brought out Bor Gullet.

Crying Stordan Tonc’s name meant Scarif, as did shouting the names of too many soldiers to _get in, kriff it!_ before he absolutely had to take off, lest they all, too, go down with the planet.

Crying for his mother was self-explanatory. He hadn’t gotten leave to go to her funeral, had never gotten a chance to say good-bye.

Depending on the tone, a repeated _I’m sorry!_ could indicate different nightmares. Rapid-fire, almost shrill repetitions, and quick, shallow breaths, usually went with the memory of some abuse or another in the Imperial Army, while a slow, mournful tone meant remembering NiJedha and how it fell.

No matter which nightmare plagued Bodhi, Cassian would hold him in his arms, and whisper _I’m here,_ until the sobbing ceased.

Sometimes, Bodhi would talk afterward, either about the nightmare itself, or about whatever thoughts tumbled around in his jumbled-up mind, and Cassian would patiently listen. Sometimes, Bodhi would get up, and Cassian would wait while he paced the corridors, until he’d tired himself out enough to lay down again. Sometimes, he’d ask Cassian to talk to him, or even to sing. Cassian knew he had no voice for singing, but Bodhi found it soothing, and Cassian took satisfaction in that. Very rarely, Bodhi would be calm enough, or exhausted enough, to simply fall back asleep.

And after Bodhi fell asleep, Cassian would close his eyes. He’d listen to the rhythmic in and out of Bodhi’s breath. Feel the warmth of the body beside him, the weight of him in his arms. He’d concentrate on this moment, this warm, dark, _safe_ moment, until his heart, too, was calm enough to let him rest.

No matter how often Bodhi woke him with a nightmare, Cassian always slept better with Bodhi in his arms.

Of course, Cassian got nightmares too. But he tried not to wake Bodhi with them. Bodhi had made a near-complete recovery from the effects of Bor Gullet, but his mind still drifted sometimes, and he got confused easily when he was tired. So Cassian did his best to shield him from unnecessary disturbances, and refused to become one himself. Despite his best efforts, though, sometimes he would wake Bodhi with his sobbing. And Bodhi would hold him, and whisper _I’m here,_ until the sobbing would cease.

Unlike Bodhi, Cassian never talked about his nightmares. Not with Bodhi, nor with anyone else. Bodhi didn’t like it, but he respected Cassian’s boundaries. Whenever it came up, he’d smile sadly, and tell Cassian that he knew he’d talk when he was ready. And Cassian would avoid his eyes, knowing that day would never come.

Because what he couldn’t tell Bodhi was this:

Bodhi had never awoken from Cassian’s nightmares. Not one single time.

Cassian had learned early on not to cry about the horrors he lived through, so why bother crying over the ones he only imagined? No, Cassian only cried when he dreamed about his family. His father’s smile, or his papa’s laugh. His sister’s conspiratorial whisper when she told him things he was too young to know about, but she, at eight years old, understood completely. His grandparents, his aunts and uncles, and oh so many cousins, celebrating a birthday, a holiday, a wedding. In his dreams, Cassian thought of his family. He saw them, alive, and intact, and so _happy_ , all together, back on Fest.

And when he awoke, he remembered. And he sobbed.


End file.
